Alcatraz winced, but without moving his feet; and when he straightened
the finger tips touched the velvet of his nose. He stamped and snorted
to frighten the hunter away but the hand moved dauntlessly high and
higher--it rested between his eyes--it passed across his head, always
with that faint tingle of pleasure trailing behind the touch; and the
voice was saying in broken tones: "Some damn fools say they ain't a
God! Some damn fools! Something for nothing. That's what He gives!
Steady, boy: steady!"
Between perfect fear and perfect pleasure, the stallion shuddered. Now
the Great Enemy was beside him with a hand slipping down his neck. Why
did he not swerve and race away? What power chained him to the place?
He jerked his head about and caught the shoulder of Perris in his
teeth. He could crush through muscles and sinews and smash the bone.
But the teeth of Alcatraz did not close for the hunter made no sign of
fear or pain.
"You're considerable of an idiot, Alcatraz, but you don't know no
better," the voice was saying. "That's right, let go that hold. In the
old days I'd of had my rope on you quicker'n a wink. But what good in
that? The hoss I love ain't a down-headed, mean-hearted man-killer
like you used to be; it's the Alcatraz that I've seen running free
here in the Valley of the Eagles.
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